Friday, August 29, 2014

I had the great privilege of beta-reading this one. You won't want to miss it when it releases in early 2015. In the meantime, we can now reveal the cover!!

Ta da!

Welcome to the Cover Reveal for

The Artisans by Julie Reece

presented by Month9Books!

Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

They say death can be beautiful. But after the death of her mother, seventeen-year-old RAVEN WEATHERSBY gives up her dream of becoming a fashion designer, barely surviving life in the South Carolina lowlands.

To make ends meet, Raven works after school as a seamstress creating stunning works of fashion that often rival the great names of the day.

Instead of making things easier on the high school senior, her stepdad's drinking leads to a run in with the highly reclusive heir to the Maddox family fortune, Gideon Maddox.

But Raven's stepdad's drying out and in no condition to attend the meeting with Maddox. So Raven volunteers to take his place and offers to repay the debt in order to keep the only father she's ever known out of jail, or worse.

Gideon Maddox agrees, outlining an outrageous demand: Raven must live in his home for a year while she designs for Maddox Industries' clothing line, signing over her creative rights.

Her handsome young captor is arrogant and infuriating to the nth degree, and Raven can't imagine working for him, let alone sharing the same space for more than five minutes.

But nothing is ever as it seems. Is Gideon Maddox the monster the world believes him to be? And can he stand to let the young seamstress see him as he really is?
The Artisans is a delectably rich, layered and dark YA Southern Gothic inspired by Jeanne Marie Leprince de Beaumont's classic Beauty and the Beast.

"The Artisans has all the elements I love - spooky intrigue, strong friendships, and a romantic tension to be savored." ~ Wendy Higgins, New York Times bestselling author of the Sweet Evil trilogy.

Born in Ohio, I lived next to my grandfather’s horse farm until the fourth grade. Summers were about riding, fishing and make-believe, while winter brought sledding and ice-skating on frozen ponds. Most of life was magical, but not all.

I struggled with multiple learning disabilities, did not excel in school. I spent much of my time looking out windows and daydreaming. In the fourth grade (with the help of one very nice teacher) I fought dyslexia for my right to read, like a prince fights a dragon in order to free the princess locked in a tower, and I won.

Afterwards, I read like a fiend. I invented stories where I could be the princess… or a gifted heroine from another world who kicked bad guy butt to win the heart of a charismatic hero. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that? Later, I moved to Florida where I continued to fantasize about superpowers and monsters, fabricating stories (my mother called it lying) and sharing them with my friends.

Then I thought I’d write one down…

Hooked, I’ve been writing ever since. I write historical, contemporary, urban fantasy, adventure, and young adult romances. I love strong heroines, sweeping tales of mystery and epic adventure… which must include a really hot guy. My writing is proof you can work hard to overcome any obstacle. Don’t give up. I say, if you write, write on!

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

My sista from another mista has ventured into new adult waters in this first release in her new McAvery brothers series. Just released today and already a Top 100 category bestseller on Amazon! Woo-hoo!

Hunter's story comes first in The Colors of Us, pairing him with Michelle Willis. I showed you the cover a few weeks ago. Now you can finally pick up the book and start reading! Me, my pre-order showed up late last night. That's my next read, fer shur.

To refresh your memory, here's a bit more:

Everything she knew to be true fell apart. Then fell apart again…

Michelle Willis is running from her past. What better place to hide than in the anonymity of New York City. Finding refuge in a tiny SoHo art gallery, she rebuilds her life one painting at a time.

A wrong turn sends Hunter McAvery on a crash course with disaster. He fights his own demons by following his big brother’s lead—drinking and bed-hopping his way through Manhattan.

A glance at Michelle’s self-portrait triggers emotions Hunter can’t tamp down. Driven to meet the artist, he discovers a fiery chemistry as their lives collide. But when their pasts threaten to tear them apart, can their love survive?

Where can you buy your copy? Why at any of these fine establishments (among others):

About Sandra Bunino

Sandra Bunino is a romance author of several novellas including The Satin Rose Experience series. Her first full length novel, The Colors of Us from the McAvery’s Bar Series, released in August 2014. She makes her parents proud by putting her MBA degree to good use dreaming up Alpha heroes who dominate the bedroom as well as the boardroom.

When not staying up past her bedtime torturing her oh-so-sexy heroes, she can be found shopping for shoes or saving turtles.

She looks forward to hearing from her readers and she may be contacted at sbunino@gmail.com. As a social media junkie in need of a ten-step program, you can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter (@sandrabunino). Join her book group, Bunino’s Bookalicious Babes, on Facebook!

Friday, August 15, 2014

I have an awesome announcement about one of my very best buds who has a new adult offering coming out soon, the first in a series. Today, I'm excited to participate in the cover reveal for Colors of Us, a contemporary romance set in the big apple.

The book releases on August 24th too so once your appetite is whetted, you won't have to wait long for this baby. In the meantime, enjoy the cover, excerpt and enter for the giveaway at the bottom. Share in the comments your thoughts on the cover and the excerpt / blurb. :)

Michelle Willis is running from her past. What better place to hide than in the anonymity of New York City. Finding refuge in a tiny SoHo art gallery, she rebuilds her life one painting at a time.

A wrong turn sends Hunter McAvery on a crash course with disaster. He fights his own demons by following his big brother’s lead - drinking and bed-hopping his way through Manhattan.

A glance at Michelle’s self-portrait triggers emotions Hunter can’t tamp down. Driven to meet the artist, he discovers a fiery chemistry as their lives collide. But when their past threatens to tear them apart, can their love survive?

“I think pink is your color. It looks great against your dark hair.” Reaching past her shoulder, he curled a strand of her hair between his fingers and tugged gently before letting it fall onto her shoulder.

Meeting his gaze, she smiled. “Thanks.” Michelle wasn’t used to compliments. It’d been her goal to fade into the crowd and not to call attention to herself. But her self-imposed rules seemed to float away around Hunter McAvery.

Returning her smile, he continued the lesson. “After you slide your hands into the opening, you’ll wind the long strap around your fingers and wrist like this.” Holding her fingers in his hand, he wound the dangling strap around her palm and over her knuckles. “You want to protect the part of your hand that meets the bag.”

He stepped closer as he slipped the strap around the base of her thumb. When he brushed his fingertips against the sensitive area just below the fleshy part of her palm, a shiver shot up her arm and traveled to her belly. His warm breath ghosted her face as he circled the end of the strap around her wrist and secured the Velcro tab. Before she knew it, strong fingers captured her left hand and guided her arm to the warmth between their bodies. She itched to graze her fingers along his muscled chest, capturing his heat with her palm. Her gaze bounced to his neck and stubbled jaw, which clenched as he slid the other wrap over her hand. Slowly wrapping her other wrist, he secured the strap and held both of her gloved hands in his. “Make a fist,” he said huskily.

Tightening her hands into a ball, she tucked her thumb around the outside of her fingers like he showed her at the gym.

He squeezed her fists. “They look good. You’re a badass.”

Michelle snorted. “A badass in pink.”

“Let’s see what you got. Show me some upper cuts. Right here.” He tapped his abs.

“You want me to hit you?” She giggled.

“Sure. I can take it.”

Turning her palms up, she made a fist and alternated soft punches to his belly. His rock-hard belly. Each strike made her aware of how alive he made her feel. The force of impact sent ripples up his tight shirt, awakening the planes of his muscular form. She gulped back the desire to open her fists and run her fingertips along the line of each thick muscle.

His hands came to rest on her forearms, halting her movement. The pads of his thumbs stroked the sensitive skin near the inside of her elbow causing a delicious shiver up her arm. Michelle’s eyes met his. The fire brewing in his darkened gaze drew her in. Hunter stepped between her legs, nudging her back against the wall next to the mural. She closed her eyes and choked back a groan, wanting—no, needing—to grind her heat on his leg. Raising her arms above her, he pinned them against the wall on either side of her head. His scent flooded her senses as she lifted her chin to close the gap between them.

“I’m trying like hell not to kiss you.” Hunter straightened his back but didn’t loosen his grip on her arms.

Her skin prickled from the nearness of his body. She let her gaze drift to his lips. “Why?” she whispered.

He blew a slow breath between his teeth. “Nothing good would come of it. I’m not capable of giving or feeling… or offering anything much to you.” He shook his head but he didn’t move from her body.

“I don’t believe that.” Michelle wriggled her arms from his grasp. Her fingertips lingered on his corded forearms, which flexed under her touch. Easing a trail toward his shoulders, her fingers reminded her of a paintbrush’s first dab of color on a fresh canvas. She’d always believed each canvas had a personality of its own, and it was the symphony of the brush, artist, and canvas that created the work of art. She wanted to explore the blank canvas of Hunter McAvery.

She studied his arms, still caging her in. Protecting her. Wanting her. Her eyes met his gaze. He stared at her, unmoving, but a spark burned in his eyes. She held her breath, afraid to break his trance. Her palms smoothed over his shoulders and down his chest, stopping at the center of his ribs. Pushing into the muscles of his chest, she felt the strong beat of his heart on her fingers. “Kiss me, Hunter.” Raising her eyebrows, she dared to look him in the eyes, almost afraid of what she’d see.

“You don’t understand. You’re too… good.” He averted his gaze.

“Maybe you should let me decide what’s good for me.” She moved closer, his breath burned hot on her face, and he squeezed his eyes closed.

“Michelle….”

Her hands traveled up his chest and rested on the bulk of his strong shoulders. Pulling him in, her breasts molded into his chest and, finally, he crashed his lips down on hers. She met every stroke of his tongue as her fingers raked through the ends of his hair. Moaning into his mouth, she straddled his muscular thigh as warmth flooded her sex. She’d never felt more alive.

His hand grazed her cheek before taking her chin between his thumb and index finger and pulling away from their kiss. He tipped his forehead to hers, his raspy breath hot on her mouth. “Shit.”

Michelle widened her eyes. “What?” she whispered.

“You. Me. This just can’t happen. Not now. Not like this.”

Sandra Bunino is a romance author of several novellas including The Satin Rose Experience series. Her first full length novel, Colors of Us from the McAvery's Brothers series, makes its debut during the summer of 2014. She makes her parents proud by putting her MBA degree to good use dreaming up Alpha heroes who dominate the bedroom as well as the boardroom.

When not staying up past her bedtime torturing her oh-so-sexy heroes, she can be found shopping for shoes or saving turtles.

She looks forward to hearing from her readers and she may be contacted at sbunino@gmail.com. As a social media junkie in need of a ten-step program, you can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter (@sandrabunino). Join her book group, Bunino's Bookalicious Babes, on Facebook!

Monday, August 4, 2014

“Midnight Dawn straps you in from the beginning and whisks you away on an emotional, breath-taking ride of romance, fantasy, and good vs. evil. It's magic.” --Naima Simone, author of the SECRETS AND SINS series

With only three days until the wraith king turns the earth into an all-you-can-eat buffet, Addison Beckett is forced to enlist brooding sentinel Asher Green’s help to unlock the Mortal Machine. According to the founder, all she has to do is find the sanctuary—the same sanctuary she can’t remember because Asher erased her memories.

Trying to save humanity while navigating Asher’s lies is a royal pain. But the more time she and Asher spend together, the harder her soul tries to remind her what else he’s made her forget—that he loves her, wants her, needs her.

When she’s trapped by the wraith king and forced to pick who will stand by her in the coming battle, Addison is faced with an impossible choice: the sentinel she loves who refuses to love her back, or a powerful stranger who insists they’re meant to be together. Her decision will determine the fate of humanity, and once decided, can’t be undone.

How about an excerpt too!

Excerpt from Ch 10 – Addison and Asher are on the hunt for the pages missing from the Mortal Machine’s bible

I stopped dead on the sidewalk, panting and hot in the summer night air, and turned toward the page that called my every cell. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Asher drew up beside me. “What wrong?”

I pointed up at the giant stone building with stairs leading up between the pillars. “That’s the American Museum of Natural History.”

He raised a brow, checked out the building, stared at me again. “The suspense is killing me, Plaid. I still don’t get what’s wrong.”

“Tell me why you call me that, and then stop doing it.” I kept my face pointed toward that thread of enticement beckoning me toward the giant horse statue and the stairs behind it. “Why do plaid shirts make me go all gooey inside? I know I was wearing one when you brought me to the facility.”

“Because you grew up a country girl and find some sort of sappy sentiment in bumpkin clothing.” He flashed a condescending smile. “I find it strangely amusing. Now, is the page in there or not?”

“I find it strangely amusing,” I echoed, mocking his aren’t-I-so-funny tone. Not. “And yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s in there. What do we do now?”

He returned to full hunting mode, darting glances at everything that moved, which wasn’t much at the late hour. “We go inside, find whatever object the page is hidden in, and zip out through the Shift with it. Simple.”

What? “How is that simple? I’m not breaking into a freakin’ museum and walking off with their stuff. That’s stealing.”

He shot me an oh-my-God-you-are-such-a-goody-goody look. “Well then, oh moral one, what would you suggest we do? Waltz in there and offer to buy it with the change in our pockets? It isn’t a department store. Even if we could scrounge up enough cash to buy whatever it is, where do you think our money comes from? The Machine certainly doesn’t have a bank account or any sources of income.”

A young couple ambled toward us, so I held my verbal hurricane until they passed by. “Are you saying everything we have that Izan doesn’t make is bought with stolen money? The guns? Sophia’s material? The food?”

“We only take from those we cleanse.” He looked away at the last.

Murder, he meant. The guardians used to kill people they couldn’t pull the wraiths out of, the only surefire way to destroy a bugman before I’d shown them another. As that thought percolated, I slowly clenched my fists. “A victimless crime, right? They were already dead, and, after all, they can’t take it with them. You can’t even look me in the eye while you say that, so don’t try to pass that off as okay.”

“I didn’t say I thought it was okay,” he snarled.

His lips parted, and his demonic expression suggested he was thinking of arguing some more, but he shrugged. “You’re the Architect. If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

Still fuming, I considered our options. We didn’t have money to buy whatever artifact contained the page, even if the museum had been open and curators were willing to sell a priceless object. They wouldn’t give it to us, since they didn’t know us from Adam’s elbow, and we couldn’t very well tell them who we were and why we needed it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure why we needed the pages, only that we did. We were out of time for my moral compass to find north.

After minutes of brain-melting thought, I kept coming back to Asher’s smash-and-grab solution. “Fine, we’ll steal it. If we can get the page out without destroying the thing, then we’ll give the object back.”

Jocelyn is an office grunt by day and creator of romance and adventure by night. Born a farmer’s daughter with a vivid imagination, she spent her childhood dreaming up stories.

With no formal training, she relied on the honest feedback of her writing group to take her from that first short story all the way to THE END of her first novel. She now has five published novels and has recently signed a 3-book deal with Entangled Publishing.

When she isn’t slinging words, you can find her shooting her bow or enjoying the serenity of family life in her little house in the woods.